The Secret Heir (Alinthia Series Book 2)
Page 11
Dane’s eyes smolder as he strains across the table. “If you were ever lucky enough to share my bed, it’d be an experience you’d never forget. Trust me, I’ve had no complaints.”
“Wow, Dane. I didn’t think your ego could get any bigger, but I was clearly mistaken.” I glare at him, and he glares back at me. Simmering tension filters through the bond.
Zorc sighs, breaking the tense face-off. “If this is typical, then it’s no wonder you’ve been experiencing difficulty tapping into your abilities.”
I roll my fingers over the vial in my pocket. “If the cure works, and I’m no longer cursed, then maybe that’s all that’s needed.” I stab Dane with a piercing look, one that says hell will freeze over before I have sex with him.
“Perhaps, which is why there is no time to waste,” Zorc agrees.
He looks pointedly at me, and I remove the vial from my pocket, twirling it between my fingers. I hand it to Beck. “Can you test this first. Make sure it’s safe to take?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Zorc says with a dismissive wave of his hand. “The finest medicians have worked on that formula. I assure you it’s completely safe.”
“No offense to you or your medicians, but I don’t know them, and Beck’s the only one I trust with something like this. I’m not putting anything foreign into my body unless I know it’s safe.” I eyeball Dane as I speak, making sure he hears the double entendre.
Beck stands up. “I’ll be back in a bit.” I nod and smile at him in gratitude.
“So, Alinthia,” Zorc says once Beck has exited the room. He supports his arms on the top of the table. “Dekten tells me certain memories have been resurfacing, and I’d like to know if any of them relate to General Arantu.”
Blood turns to ice in my veins, and bile floods my mouth. My eyes cut to Dane, wondering what he’s said and if he somehow knows? Dane’s gift of supersight works similarly to Coop’s superhearing, but it isn’t confined to physical sight alone. He also has great insight, and now I’m terrified he’s picked up on something. That he knows exactly what I’m concealing. Masking my fear, I study his face, looking for any indication that he knows about that horrible vision, but he gives nothing away, staring impassively at me.
Ignoring Dane, I level my gaze on our handler. “In what way?” I ask, feigning ignorance.
“Have you seen—”
His sentence is halted by a loud wailing siren echoing around the room. The guys jump to their feet, and I stand, protecting my ears with my hands. The guys are all looking at one another in a way I’ve come to recognize—they’re communicating through their minds, and I hate that I’m being shut out. “What is it? What’s going on?” I direct my question at Dane, but Zorc is the one to respond.
“It would seem we have a major problem.”
CHAPTER 15
Zorc waves his hand above his head in a circular motion, and a holographic screen appears out of thin air. An image bursts to life, and I squint as I try to figure out exactly what I’m witnessing. Dane, Cooper, and Maddox stand on one side of me, watching the action on the screen with worrisome expressions.
The screen shows a picture of outer space, like an expansive black canvas, the dark background being lit up with explosive sparks of color as various alien craft exchange gunfire. A myriad of different-shaped vessels and ships line up in two haphazard rows, facing one another as they battle it out.
Beck pops back into the room, coming to stand on my other side, in the space between me and Zorc. “Can you identify the species?” Zorc asks no one in particular.
“I’m pretty sure those ones are from Rindyar,” Dane says, pointing to a cluster of smaller triangular-shaped craft. His voice is strained, concern carved into lines on his forehead.
“Yes, and the rest on this side belong to Amara,” Beck confirms, jabbing his finger at a few larger vessels beside the Rindyar ones.
Zorc jerks his head at the line of ships on the opposite side. “That looks like Tor craft.”
“It is,” Beck agrees, “and they are fighting alongside the renegade Lantockk and Herassan.”
“Where is this?” I hope they’re going to say it’s over on the other side of the galaxy even though I sense that’s just wishful thinking.
Beck swipes his hand over the side of the screen, and a digital control panel appears. His fingers are like lightning as they fly over the keypad, pressing buttons until the screen splits in two and a map of the solar system appears on the right-hand side. On the left-hand side, we watch as the conflict continues, both warring sides unyielding in their exchange of firepower. “Do you see that orange light there?” Beck says, looking at me as he points at the map. I nod. “That’s us.”
“And let me guess.” I purse my lips. “That cluster of blue lights in the not too far distance is where the fighting is taking place?” No one needs to confirm it for me to know I’m right. “Is this about me?” I swing my gaze around all of them. “Do they know I’m here?”
“I think so, because I don’t believe in coincidences,” Dane replies, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “Do you?”
“No. No, I don’t.”
“We should leave right now. Take an alternate route away from the fighting,” Maddox suggests, his tone simmering with panic.
“No.” Both Zorc and Dane speak at the same time. “It’s far too risky,” Dane adds.
“And if they tracked your arrival, they can track your departure.” Zorc grimaces.
“I don’t understand how,” Beck interjects, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “We used the invisibility shield, and I cloaked our heat signature. Unless someone was very closely monitoring the galaxy for subtle distortions, there was no way we could’ve been detected. I really don’t know how they discovered us.”
“Why are they fighting?” I ask, trying to puzzle it out. “Is it because both factions want to kidnap me and they don’t want to share the prize? Or one side is trying to defend me?” It’s remarkable how unruffled I am considering enemy aliens are in the vicinity, hellbent on taking me to General Arantu.
“Good question,” Coop agrees, his signature grin missing for a change.
“I’m trying to figure that one out myself.” Dane massages his temples. “Traditionally those races don’t have any beef with one another, except for the Tor, but they just fall out with everyone.”
“But whose side are they on? The way you’ve explained it to me previously is that one faction supports the APGP and wants to protect the prophecy and me, another supports General Arantu and wants to see him succeed in gaining full control of the galaxy, and the third faction believes eliminating me removes the biggest threat.” I glide one finger across the screen, where a few of the smaller ships are careening across the sky, smoke and flames billowing from their vessels.
“The majority of that crew are supporters of Jentarr,” Beck supplies, pointing at the side with the Tor, Lantockk, and Herassan ships.
“Who’s Jentarr?” I’m pretty sure that’s the first time I’m hearing that name.
“Jentarr is a Lantockk criminal, a renegade who was long ago tossed out of his native planet for treachery,” Beck starts explaining. I fold my arms across my chest and concentrate on what he’s saying. “Rumor says he was once close with General Arantu, when they were young cadets in training with the Intergalactic Corps, and that Arantu cut him loose once he began to assume power and make a name for himself.”
“That’s all hearsay,” Zorc cuts in. “Although there are many who believe it is what drives and motivates Jentarr.”
“Jentarr is the biggest threat to Arantu’s mission in the galaxy. He has amassed considerable support and wealth, and he is almost as feared as Arantu himself and certainly not one to disregard, but, up to now, he has stayed notoriously neutral on the subject of the prophecy.”
“Well,” I say, “I guess he’s just made a stand.”
“This isn’t good,” Maddox says in a gruff tone, more rattled than I’ve ever seen him.
“I think we have to involve the elders.” Zorc doesn’t look happy making the suggestion.
“Absolutely not,” Dane barks, his tone insistent.
“Well, what else do you propose?!” Zorc snaps. “We don’t have time to debate this.” He nods at the screen. “Jentarr’s allies are gaining the upper hand.” We defer to the screen again, and, sure enough, the larger enemy ship is now under heavy gunfire, going down at the rear, with one side of the craft ripped in two, and flames lapping over the hull.
“Does the APGP have a means of defending this planet?” I ask.
“Of course,” Zorc confirms. “They have a large unit of skilled fighter pilots and the latest in military craft.”
“They also have a defensive shield and laser cannons which can be operated from the control tower without the need to deploy fighter craft,” Maddox says.
“Perhaps you could contact the elders, Zorc, and express concern that the Academy’s location may have been breached and suggest they invoke defensive action?”
“The elders will be hesitant to make a move because it will definitely confirm their presence here,” Dane says.
“Well, can’t they invoke the defensive shield for now until we try to figure out our strategy? At least that way we know the enemy can’t infiltrate the planet.”
Zorc defers to Dane, and Dane looks at me as he holds his chin between his thumb and his forefinger. “I think it’ll work.”
“Okay, I’ll comm them.” Zorc starts striding toward the door. “Stay here. Don’t move until I return.”
“Shit.” Maddox drops onto the bench, resting his elbows on his knees and propping his head in his hands. “Coming here may have been the worst decision we ever made.” His knee taps nervously up and down.
“If we are trapped here, or the elders discover Alinthia’s here, and we’re confined to the compound again, I think I’ll fucking go out of my mind,” Coop says, looking forlorn as he walks to the window, pressing his head against the glass.
“How bad was it here?” I walk to Cooper, snaking my arms around him from behind. He clasps my hands in his, and every bone in his body is rigid with stress.
“It may as well have been a prison,” Maddox quietly replies. “Everything revolved around routine and structure, and we were allowed little freedom.”
“Let’s talk in here,” Dane suggests, motioning toward the living area. Coop turns around, taking my hand, and we all traipse after Dane, sinking into various seats in the large living area. I sit in between Cooper and Maddox, holding each of their hands.
“Are you really sure you want to hear this?” Dane inquires, sitting stiffly in a sleek, curved white chair that seems to mold to his body.
“I know by the way you’ve all been reluctant to speak about your childhood that it wasn’t pleasant. If there’s even a possibility that we’ll be stuck here, I’d like to know what I’m facing.”
“We don’t remember much of our early years,” Cooper says, “because we were only babies, but once we could walk and talk, everything changed.”
“I’ll never forget the smell of the dorm,” Maddox says, wrinkling his nose. “It was this overripe, pungent smell like month-old dirty diapers mixed with rotten eggs. I used to gag every night getting into bed.”
Ugh. I wrinkle my nose at even the thought of it.
“And the bed sheets were like paper against your skin,” Dane says. “And you remember how hard the mattresses were? It was like sleeping on a bed of stone.”
“The worst was how we had to get up so early every morning to do physical training before our studies started.” Beck rubs the bridge of his nose. “I suck at anything physical and Elder Lantiss was a mean old bastard who enjoyed punishing me when I frequently failed.”
All the color drains from my face. “They physically punished you?”
“On occasion,” Beck says. “But that wasn’t really their M.O.”
“They pushed us to extremes because they said it made us better protectors, better assets, but they weren’t cruel for cruelty’s sake, although there was the odd exception, like Elder Lantiss. He’s a cold, evil piece of shit.” Dane’s eyes darken in anger. “What you’ve got to understand is that the elders worship the prophecy to the point of obsession. It’s their whole life. When an elder is ordained to the Academy, they swear an oath to protect the prophecy and to make it their life’s mission to ensure the legacy lives on until the Chosen One is awakened. That means they can’t marry, and they can’t leave here.”
“And because they are so committed, they expect the same of others,” Maddox butts in. “They are rigid in how they run the compound as a result. Infractions and breaking of rules are not permitted, and they dish out severe punishments if you don’t obey.”
“For years, it was the same routine. Up at the crack of dawn, strength and combat training, then intensive study of the prophecy and our mission, dinner, and then chores. The only time we got to chat was at night in the dorms.”
Dane’s face has taken on an ashen quality as he dredges up unpleasant memories. “This one time, they caught us talking when we should have been sleeping, and they split us up and made us sleep in solitude cells for an entire month.”
“Dude, please don’t remind me of that,” Coop quietly acknowledges. “That is not a happy memory.”
“Do you have any?” I ask, attempting to smother the pain in my heart.
“We had each other,” Maddox says. “That always got us through the times when we felt like we couldn’t go on.”
The four boys exchange a look loaded with years of solidarity, and I’m only beginning to fully understand the strength of the connection and the love they share.
“And thoughts of you kept us going too,” Cooper explains. “We used to talk about the ceremony of light, at night, under the covers, in whispered conversations. We all remembered it so vividly, as if it had only happened, and we wondered, and worried, what had become of you.”
“We knew you were still alive, because so were we, but we had no clue what had happened to you. Some of the other trainees questioned the validity of your existence, and it always made us so mad,” Maddox says.
“Because they were jealous, Mad Dog.” Coop presses a kiss to the side of my head. “They knew we were getting out when we reached maturity, and it pissed them off. A few asshats liked to mess with our heads, purely to spite us.”
Dane sits upright in his chair. “We weren’t very popular with the others, which was another reason why we kept to ourselves much of the time.”
Coop chuckles, and we all send perplexed looks his way. “I’m recalling the time Mad Dog flattened Belthon into the ground. You remember? He actually left a body-shaped dent in the ground.” He laughs again. “I remember how envious I was, and how I wished I had superstrength, because I really wanted to pound that punk ass into the dirt for the shit he was talking about Alinthia.”
I face Maddox, asking him a question before someone elaborates on what was said. There’s no point rehashing that shit now. “What did they do to punish you?”
His eyes flash with anger, and his face turns puce. “They nominated me as the guinea pig in the Tianore tests. Said the temporary loss of my ability would serve to remind me that my gift was never to be used inappropriately.”
“Tianore tests?” An intense shiver travels up my spin as I remember how sick I was when I was poisoned. The thought that they’d deliberately do that to a child utterly disgusts me.
“We were studying it in class, and they wanted someone to volunteer to be tested with various different strains of Tianore. Some was embedded in weapons, like the knife that infected you, and they took great pleasure in inflicting wounds on me and monitoring how ill I became. On one occasion, they injected pure liquid Tianore directly into my bloodstream. I thought I was dy
ing.”
Shudders rock his powerful body, and rage mixes with sorrow inside me. If I ever get my hands on who did that to him, they’ll be sorry. And if the prophecy comes to life, and I become who they all say I will, then I’m vowing to make changes around here. No other children will endure what my boys have had to endure. Circling my arms around Maddox’s neck, I kiss his cheek. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, but thank you so much for defending my honor. You didn’t even know me, and still you jumped to my defense.”
Maddox heaves a sigh, burying his face in my neck.
“We’ve always felt like we’ve known you, Alinthia.” Cooper taps his chest, right where his heart is. “You’ve always been in here.”
“I’m only beginning to fully understand that,” I admit. Maddox lifts his head, smiling at me, and I’m glad the cobwebs of the past have cleared from his face. “I can’t believe my parents allowed this type of conduct to happen while they were alive and that no one involved at a high level within the Academy hasn’t tried to intervene over the years.” I shake my head in disgust.
“Apparently it wasn’t always like this,” Beck says, running a hand through his hair. The multitude of leather bands on his wrist jiggles with the movement. “The head elder in charge passed away shortly before we were sent here, and his replacement set about completely changing the entire structure and policy under which they governed. If the old records are reliable, things used to be vastly different.”
“And you’ve got to understand, they think the students here are dispensable, for the most part.” Dane rubs a spot between his shoulder blades.
“Not you guys.”
“No, but we were still considered servants of the ruling family, and our status as the Chosen One’s protectors didn’t qualify us for any special privileges.” Dane looks down at the ground, and I sense the weight of the past pressing down on him.